the balance between
pleasing a new guest
who will be staying for a while
& pleasing someone who
has lived here for years
is a hard one
to stabilize.

i look into the glass bottle
that holds my ibuprofen
to pass my time
because the pills are blue
& translucent
& glassy
& it makes me feel like
i'm staring into the sea.

her hair is knotted
after a good night's sleep.
his eyes are red
because he can't control
his insomnia.
she drinks a cup of weak coffee,
sitting by the window
in her favorite dress,
the pink sunlight streaming in
through yellow-stained glass.
he walks in, makes himself
a cup of too-strong tea,
and waits.

she does not know what to do.
he feels lucky to be there.
i am standing
on the edge of the precipice,
closing my chocolate eyes,
the convoluted orb
shining orange
through my golden eyelids;
monsters are
swimming in trees below.

my lungs start to wheeze,
my breath is a tease.